Beauty and The Beast
by TheLibrary394
Summary: The Doctor and Rory have rescued Amy from being stuck in quarantine on Apalapucia for the rest of her days but Rory, as ever, is not convinced as to Amy's feelings for him compared with her feelings for The Doctor and he's unaware of who it was that she had waited for. However, this time he has decided to voice his inner turmoil, no matter how much the answers he gets may hurt him.


Throughout my time with The Doctor I've seen so many magical, beautiful, implausible things, things that, ever since the day a mad-man with a box landed in my garden and ate all of my fish fingers, I have only dreamed could be real; I've seen galaxies you could not imagine, planets and technology even I couldn't have invented in one of my craziest, most creative of dreams, witnessed different species show the most incredible compassion to us hostile aliens who've unexpectedly invaded their planet, and yet nothing, nothing in – or out of – existence can compare to what I've experienced today.

I guess I should have seen it coming really, after everything we've been through I should have known that when it came down to it, when it actually mattered and I needed someone most, he'd be there to hold me, to protect me, to save me, because I am Amy and he is Rory and nothing can ever change that.

Despite my knowledge of and belief in The Doctor since being a child, I've never really believed in fate or destiny, and I most certainly did not believe in the foreign concept of 'true love', even the words never fit on my tongue, felt wrong in my mouth, but I suppose I'd never really thought about it, I'd never understood it, never noticed it before. Although, I think, no, I know that Rory Williams has always held a place in my heart, has always been the person for me, no matter what I tried to tell myself. Even when we were teenagers I felt something for him, wanted him to notice me, didn't want any other person to have him, or even be with him for too long because I knew that they wouldn't be able to stop themselves falling in love with him, because he's Rory, he's the perfect man. He's a man who, no matter what, will always be there for you, will know exactly what you're thinking, even when you may not know it yourself, and I could not deal with the idea of someone being in love with him because I knew, beyond anything, that he could not look at me in comparison to those other instantly more beautiful, more interesting people. So I contented myself with being his best friend, even when I didn't think he could be any more than that, I still wanted him to be that, for when you're with Rory it's like the rest of the world ceases to exist, you're the only two people to ever have been and it is perfect and it is beautiful and you can finally be happy. That's the thing, really, with Rory Williams I am happy, truly happy, like I never imagined I could be, and that's what drew me to him, initially, that here was a boy who, just like me, was from a different place, didn't belong, had never felt that tingling sensation in his stomach, that jaw aching feeling when you laugh purely for the sake of laughing; here was a boy who was just like me and when we were together we were both so joyful to have someone, to have that perfect person who was our exact match, who we really felt like we belonged when we were with and I could never bear to let him go, my Rory, the boy who waited for me and the boy I'd wait an eternity for.

And I did, in a sense of the word, I waited 36 years for him to come and rescue me, to take me home, and so he did. He cares so much for me that even when he found the aged, battered, time hardened, cantankerous version of me who was not willing to offer a compromise, he agreed to take her with him, to spend the rest of his life with a woman who'd accepted that she'd lost him many moons ago because she was me, Amelia Pond and, to him, any version of me, no matter how old, was better than none at all; at least, that's what he's told me. He's just explained to me what has happened, how he tried so hard to save her, to save me, but it was impossible; the TARDIS could never have stood the paradox of both Amy Ponds and it had always been up to Rory, in the end, which wife he'd choose. But of course, my Rory could never do that, he could never deny me what I wanted, regardless of my age or the length of time I'd spent with him, he couldn't refuse me my wish to be with him so much so that he almost let the older Amy into the TARDIS because his beautiful, pure heart could not stand to hear me cry, just as I can't stand to see him upset now, see the lines of guilt etched across his gentle face, feel him internally blaming his self for her death; no, not for her death, for her never having existed.

A shimmering tear glistens, gracefully fluttering down his cheek, and I realise that he's crying, silently, attempting to conceal it from me, but he can hide nothing from me, I've known him too well for too long for him to ever imagine that he could disguise such a thing from me. So I lift myself from lying on my back and prop myself up at his side, wriggling an arm around him and, resting my head on him shoulder, I kiss the tear away, bringing my knowledge to his attention.

"I'm sorry," he whispers in a soft, saddened voice, "I shouldn't, I just, she was so alone, so alone, and, well, she was you, wasn't she? I mean I know she wasn't _you_ you but she was still a version of you and I just hate the idea that she died alone, I mean, that she didn't exist, not really, how can that be?"

"Oh Rory, Rory, Rory, she did exist, you saw her, you met her, we both did, she will live on in our memories and there she will exist forever more so don't you ever, ever blame yourself for anything Rory Williams because you saved her, you gave that woman hope when she was about to die and that meant more than anything to her and it means more than anything to me, my Rory, never forget that you saved us both and for that I am eternally grateful," I tell him and I try to allow my sincerity to leak into my words because he must know how much all that he has done means, he has to know that.

That's when he looks at me, eyes boring into mine and he says to me, "Amelia Pond, you are the most beautiful person I have ever met."

At these words something wonderful erupts deep within me and tears weave their way out of my eyes and down my face without my consent because I know that he is not talking about my physical appearance. As I was when I was reminiscing about the love of my life with my older self, he is meaning the person I am inside, he is not talking about my exterior, he's talking about my personality, the words that come from my lips, not the way they look, the expressions I choose to pull, not my facial features and I know that the person who loves me for those things is the person that cares the most about me and I realise how lucky I am to have someone feel that way about me; I am so privileged to have Rory Williams, the last Centurion, the boy who waited forever for me, the man that I adore love me back, because not everyone gets to have that.

Upon this thought my eyes drift to The Doctor and out of the corner of my eye I can see Rory's doing the same, his mind must have been following the same train of thought as mine. For a while we both sit together, hand in hand, watching our best friend flitting around in his TARDIS, his pride and joy, pressing buttons, flicking levers; with the smile on his face anyone who didn't know him would think him perfectly contented, but we know him so much better than that, we can see the darkness behind his bright, youthful eyes, the guilt brewing inside them, we know that he couldn't bear the idea of losing either of us and that he's already feeling horrendous enough for not being able to do something to save the Amy he left behind 36 years ago.

"Do you think he's lonely? I mean, I know he has us but we have each other, don't we? And he has River, I suppose, but how is he meant to know when he'll ever see her again?" I muse aloud, and when I get nothing but a blank, vacant stare, I try to coax a response from him, unaware as to why it didn't come initially, "It must be so hard for him, don't you think?"

But still, he gazes at me in awe and doesn't begin to explain until I prompt him with a glare of my own, "What? I, well I, yeah, I mean, I've never really thought about that but yeah, yeah he probably is quite lonely."

This takes me slightly aback, I'd been so certain that he'd known exactly what I was thinking, that he was, in fact, thinking the very same thing, "Wait a minute," I begin, backtracking, "You weren't thinking that too, just now? You didn't know that that was what I was thinking about. Why did you think I was watching him then? What were you-?" I stop short as the picture comes into focus in my mind: he'd just said that he thought I was the most beautiful person he'd ever met and in return I'd, in his eyes, looked at The Doctor with a gloomy, worried look on my face; he must've thought that, to me, The Doctor is the most beautiful person in the world. The idea baffles me, of course that isn't at all how I feel, why on earth would it be when I have my Rory Williams?

Exasperated and perplexed, I open my mouth to explain my true thoughts to him, but he gets there first, "Oh come on Amy, I know you know it makes sense, how could anyone ever look at me in comparison to the wonderful Doctor, your imaginary childhood friend, the man you seem to have endless faith in, even when he continues to let you down, the man you've spent pretty much your entire life obsessing over, talking about, drawing, running away for adventures with, dreaming of, wishing he'd come back for you. No matter what you tell me, or yourself, we both know you're in love with your Raggedy Doctor far more than you've ever been in love with me. But I don't blame you, don't think that I do because I understand, truthfully I do, I know what he means to you. Don't get me wrong, I know I mean a great deal to you too, but how could you be in love with an ordinary, boring boy from Leadworth? It's always bewildered me that you've ever paid me any attention, even when we were kids you were the coolest person in our class, everyone wanted to be your best friend but you chose to befriend me. Then, when we got older, do you remember the day I asked you to go out with me? I was ridiculously awkward and embarrassing and I imagine it was hilarious for any onlookers, although I don't think there were any at that point, but you said yes and I could not believe my ears. It was utter madness; Amy Pond, the most stunningly gorgeous girl in the village, in the whole world, the girl all of the boys had fallen for, lusted over, the girl who would _always _say no to anyone who ever asked her out, had agreed to go out with the village geek. For a while, because I knew I wasn't good enough for you, I thought it was because you felt sorry for me, you knew I'd never get anyone so, due to your kind nature, you agreed to go out with me so that we wouldn't end up losing each other's friendship and so that I could feel better about myself, even if it was just for a short while, until your Doctor returned for you like you knew he would. Then, for a while, I thought that you possibly continued to date me because it was easy, natural, we'd known each other for so long you didn't need to repeat to someone new your past, your secrets, we were already so familiar with each other. Briefly, afterwards, I began to think that maybe, just maybe, you did actually love me and you honestly wanted to be with me; that was when I asked you to marry me. Part of me still believed this when we started travelling with him together, but the other part, the part that had always doubted how someone so perfect could ever love me, thought you were still with me because firstly you were too good to leave me, you really did care about me, but in a very different way to how I care for you, and secondly because you would never know how to tell him how you really feel and you, ignorant of your brilliance as always, thought of all of the friends he'd had in here with him before and of what must have happened to those girls who, too, had undoubtedly been in love with him, and were afraid that you would be shot down. I don't blame you Amy, I don't think anything bad of you either and I don't love you any less. I will always love you and my heart will always belong to you, even if yours belongs to another."

That's when I slap him. Not too hard because I am not doing it consciously, it just happens, a reflex, and I instantly regret it once I've done it because the shocked, desperate, innocent look on his face melts my heart, so for the second time I try to explain myself, "Rory you absolute idiot! Of course I don't love The Doctor, I love you, you moron! How could I possibly love anyone else in comparison to you? And, really, it offends me that you could ever think such things of me , think that I'd only be with you out of guilt or comfort or whilst I'm waiting for The Doctor to come back and I'm just, what, passing time? You utter moron Rory Williams, yes, I do love The Doctor, but like a big brother, a best friend, I'm not_ in_ love with him! Honestly, how could I be when I have you, and I always have done? Rory, you are perfect, beyond perfect, I could not wish for anyone better than you and I wouldn't want to; you mean more than the world to me. You are the funniest, kindest, sweetest, most loyal, most attractive, most wonderful being I have ever had the great fortune to meet, do you understand that? The reason I always said no to those boys back home was not because I was anticipating The Doctor's return, it was because I'd only ever wanted _you,_ how long will it take you to realise that? I don't remember ever being truly happy before I met you, Rory, and without you I could never ever be happy again, so do me, and yourself, a favour and never, ever doubt my love for you and I promise I'll never slap you again, do we have a deal?"

Yet again, my words take him by surprise, I can tell by the constant widening of his eyes throughout, but he believes it, I know he does, and it makes him just as elated as I was the day he asked me to be his wife, so he smiles his most sincere, magnificent grin and tells me, "I promise, I will never ever doubt you again, Mrs Williams."

"Good," I beam too because whenever someone addresses me this way I can't help myself, and I reach out and cup his face in my hand and say, "And just so you know, Mr Williams, you truly are the most beautiful person to ever have lived."


End file.
